


Not Words But Meanings

by purplehairedwonder



Series: Not Words 'verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Seblaine Week 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplehairedwonder/pseuds/purplehairedwonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last place Sebastian expected to run into Blaine again was in a New York coffee shop where he was singing bitter songs about heartbreak. First in the Not Words 'verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Words But Meanings

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Seblaine Week 2013, filling the prompt “College.” The title comes from a Henry David Thoreau quote: “The language of friendship is not words but meanings.”

Sebastian discovered the coffee shop during midterms his freshman year at Columbia. He’d needed to get out of his dorm when his roommate had ODed on Red Bull and had ended up bouncing off the walls—quite literally, until their neighbors had started banging on the walls and playing loud music in retaliation. In his annoyance, he’d fled further from campus than he’d initially intended, and when he’d stopped to get his bearings, it had been outside the quaint coffee house.

Noting the name with a smirk—Aroma One’s Own—he’d gone inside and, much like the name suggested, found a cozy interior with tables and bookshelves. There was a plaque hanging over the counter that read, “One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.” It was patronized mostly by college students and young professionals looking to get some work done, making it a good place to study, and the coffee wasn’t half bad either. Sebastian had continued frequenting the place despite the distance from campus even after his roommate had come back down to earth; it wouldn’t be the first time Sebastian had commuted for coffee, after all.  
  
Once midterms had ended and he dared pull his eyes away from his textbooks, he noticed flyers around the shop for weekly open mic nights but hadn’t given them much thought. He still liked to sing, sure, but it had never been something he  _needed_  to do the way some people did. Besides, performing had been tainted for him by his own and Hunter’s actions with the Warblers. And anyway, why would he bother with sad sacks playing coffee shops when he was living in a city where he could catch a professional show any time he wanted?  
  
By Thanksgiving, Sebastian had become enough of a regular at the shop that the baristas greeted him by name, sometimes sharing stories about their days. He’d just gotten back to the city after a miserable holiday at home, spent sharing stilted conversation with his father and his newest trade-in arm candy across a too large dinner table for as short a time as acceptable before excusing themselves, and was in desperate need of caffeine.  
  
As he waited for his Americano, the barista, Andrea, nodded toward one of the open mic flyers. “I think you’d find next week’s show interesting,” she said with a wink. “There’s a guy who’s been playing regularly the last month or so and he’s really good. His original stuff’s kind of sad, but he does plenty of pop covers too. He’s developing quite the following.”  
  
Sebastian was tired, irritable, and a snarky retort about hipsters and coffee shop groupies was on the tip of his tongue, but Andrea had always been nice to him and he really was working on that new leaf thing, so he tamped down on the reply.  
  
“Thanks, but—”  
  
“And he’s cute.”  
  
Sebastian raised an eyebrow as Andrea handed him his coffee. “And why are you telling me this?”  
  
“Not my team,” Andrea replied with a shrug. “Katie tried to give him her number the first week he played, but that was a no go.”  
  
“New York’s not exactly short on the gay male population, you know.” Not that Sebastian had exactly been out looking lately—no matter how tempting after the wasteland that was Westerville, Ohio with only Scandals as an opportunity for stress relief—but still. He wasn’t desperate enough to need  _help_  finding company.  
  
Andrea rolled her eyes, as though she could tell what he was thinking. “I’m just offering the potential of eye candy and a nice voice, Sebastian. Take it or leave it.”  
  
Sebastian had every intention of leaving it, but Thursday rolled around and his roommate volunteered to host the bi-weekly, hall-wide Halo tournament in their room, so Sebastian found himself wandering toward the coffee shop on the (very) off chance that this wouldn’t turn out to be a waste of time.  
  
When he walked into the shop, he was mildly surprised to find it packed. Applause was dying down, so he must’ve walked in just as the guy—apparently as popular as advertised—had finished a song. He looked up to see Andrea behind the counter; she grinned when she caught sight of him and he rolled his eyes before heading over.  
  
“You made it,” she greeted.  
  
Sebastian shrugged uncomfortably. Logically, he knew that Andrea didn’t mean anything by it, but other people sounding pleased at his expense always got under Sebastian’s skin—like they had gotten one-up on him and he had no control in the situation.  
  
“Eye candy and a nice voice, right?”  
  
She smirked and he ordered a drink just to put the conversation to rest. He was pulling out his wallet to pay when a familiar voice made Sebastian freeze.  
  
“Thank you,” the slightly breathless voice said into a microphone. “This next one’s an original, so I apologize in advance for getting maudlin.”  
  
The crowd laughed, and slow, opening bars echoed through the room. Shaking himself, Sebastian looked up at the makeshift stage at the front of the shop and his breath caught.  
  
Blaine Anderson sat behind a keyboard, eyes cast down as his fingers danced across the keys. Then he looked up and started to sing. The words washed over Sebastian, but the melody was downright haunting. He shivered as he handed a bill to Andrea, wondering at Blaine, the bright ball of charisma that he was, sounding so mournful.  
  
Sebastian ignored Andrea’s knowing look as she handed him his change, which he absently deposited in the tip jar (he was growing as a person) before stepping aside to wait for his drink, never once pulling his eyes from the stage. Blaine’s voice had always been beautiful and his stage presence riveting, but Sebastian had never heard him sing like  _this_  before, like his heart was bleeding onto the notes.  
  
The closest he could come up with was the day Blaine had come back to Dalton and sang “Dark Side” with the Warblers; he’d seemed hollowed out, a shell of his former self in the wake of his breakup with Hummel. But there had also been something raw in his voice then, a jagged edge from his pain. Now, though, while pain was definitely present, there was also a tinge of bitterness to his voice that Sebastian had never heard before. And that definitely piqued his interest.  
  
After accepting his drink Sebastian stayed by the counter, hoping to remain hidden in the shadows of the dimly lit room. There was a point during the song that Blaine’s fingers faltered on the keys and Sebastian was sure Blaine had spotted him in the crowd, but Blaine had recovered so quickly that he couldn’t be sure.  
  
As Blaine finished his song and transitioned into an upbeat pop cover, Sebastian finally managed to look away from the stage, instead gauging the crowd. There were a lot of college-aged kids and 20-somethings, as usual for this coffee shop, as well as a fair number of teenage girls, he noted with an amused smirk. And sitting in the front, just off to the side, were two members of New Directions—well, former members now, he supposed—but Tina Cohen-Chang and Sam Evans weren’t the ones he would’ve expected to see with Blaine in New York.  
  
Blaine played one more song before making a self-deprecating apology for hogging the mic and stepping aside to loud applause for someone else to play. Sebastian figured he was probably one of the last people Blaine would want to be surprised by so was contemplating the best exit strategy when Andrea spoiled everything.  
  
“Hey Blaine,” she called as the next performer stepped up onto the stage, pulling a guitar from its case. Blaine, who’d been speaking with his friends, Sam having thrown an arm over his shoulders while Tina spoke with wide gestures, looked up. His expression shifted from a polite smile into something more genuine when he saw her. “C’mere a sec!”  
  
 _Shit_.  
  
Sebastian tore his eyes away from Blaine, who said something to Tina and Sam before slipping out from under Sam’s arm and heading toward the counter. Andrea was smirking when Sebastian glanced at her, and he grimaced. That uncomfortable feeling of losing control had returned.  
  
“He’s good, right?”  
  
“Yeah,” he agreed, not trusting himself to say much else.  _Flawless_ , he’d once told Hunter.  
  
He and Blaine hadn’t spoken in nearly a year. They’d talked while the other boy had contemplated transferring back to Dalton, and there had been some texts even after he’d decided to stay at McKinley, but once the steroids scandal had broken, communication had gone dark. Rumor around Dalton had it that Blaine and Evans had been behind the disqualification, but there hadn’t been any proof.  
  
And while some of the younger Warblers that Hunter had corralled under him in his ascent to power had grumbled under their breath about revenge, most of the older Warblers had been relieved to be out from under Hunter’s ‘roid-enhanced tyranny. No one dared say or do anything that might get back to him before graduation though, and that included reaching out to Blaine. As a result, Sebastian really had no idea where he stood with Blaine, though he doubted he was in high regard, which could make a meeting extremely awkward.  
  
As Blaine approached, Sebastian could hear him being stopped every few people with compliments and congratulations. If he left now, though, he’d have to get by Blaine just to reach the door.  _Dammit._  
  
“Nice set tonight, Blaine,” Andrea said.  
  
“I didn’t mean to monopolize the open mic,” Blaine replied as he came up behind Sebastian. “You should have cut me off.”  
  
“Please,” Andrea said with a dismissive hand wave. “All these people are here for you. You could play all night if you wanted.”  
  
“Oh come on,” Blaine laughed. “That’s not true.”  
  
Andrea just shrugged, like this was an argument they’d had before. “Anyway, I had an ulterior motive for calling you over.”  
  
“Uh oh.” Blaine’s voice was warm and Sebastian could picture the teasing smile.  
  
“I wanted to introduce you to this guy here,” she said, nodding at Sebastian.  
  
 _Fuck fuck fuck._  
  
“Andrea—” There was a hint of warning in that, so Sebastian turned and Blaine cut himself off as his eyes widened.  
  
“Blaine, this is—”  
  
“Sebastian,” Blaine finished, his voice going slightly higher in surprise. Sebastian might’ve smirked at that, but he was still working on not feeling blindsided himself.  
  
“Hey Killer,” Sebastian greeted, inwardly grimacing at the awkwardness. Blaine’s mouth worked silently as he stared at Sebastian.  
  
“Wait, you two know each other?”  
  
Blaine shook himself and nodded. “Ah, yeah. We knew each other in high school.”  
  
Andrea raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Aren’t you from Iowa or something?”  
  
“Ohio,” Sebastian corrected.  
  
When Blaine nodded in confirmation, Andrea laughed. “Man, what are the odds?” Shaking her head in amusement, she reached under the counter and pulled out a water bottle. She handed it to Blaine. “I’ll just leave you two to catch up.” She gave Sebastian a pointed look before heading back to the register, where a line was starting to form.  
  
Blaine raised a questioning eyebrow at Sebastian, who just shrugged. He had no idea what the hell he was doing either. After a moment, Blaine smiled; it wasn’t big, but it was genuine, so Sebastian counted that as a win, something warm settling in his chest.  
  
“Grab a table? I can tell Sam and Tina to head home without me?” He phrased the second half of the statement as a question, as though Sebastian could ever say no to him.  
  
“Sure,” Sebastian agreed, relieved that Blaine didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get away.  
  
Blaine nodded and disappeared back into the crowd. The next musician—if he could be called that, as the guitar (as well as his voice) was out of tune—started playing, so Sebastian headed toward the back to find an empty table. The coffee shop had emptied noticeably after Blaine had finished playing, so there were more open spots to choose from.  
  
He settled down by a window and looked up to see Blaine’s friends looking suspiciously in his direction. A spike of irritation hitting him, Sebastian waggled his fingers in a sarcastic wave in return. Evans frowned and Tina’s eyes narrowed, but apparently whatever Blaine had to say placated them, as they finally grabbed their stuff. They headed out the door with one final glare for Sebastian, who replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. Blaine walked them to the door before heading back to Sebastian and sitting down across from him.  
  
“Sorry about them. They’re kind of—”  
  
“Psychotic?” Sebastian supplied, his face the picture of innocence.  
  
“Protective,” Blaine corrected. A small smile played at his lips, as though he was amused against his better judgment.  
  
Sebastian nodded and took a sip of his coffee; it had gone lukewarm and he nearly gagged. That night in the parking garage was going haunt him for the rest of his life, and he would expect no less than protectiveness from the people who Blaine kept close, inconvenient as it might be.  
  
“I, uh,” Blaine started, stumbling over his words a bit.  
  
Sebastian normally had little patience for people who didn’t get to the point, but on Blaine it was disgustingly endearing. But Blaine had always been an exception. Sebastian put his cup back down on the table, though he kept his fingers wrapped around it like it might help anchor him in the moment.  
  
“I was surprised to see you tonight,” he finally said.  
  
“Andrea told me to come,” Sebastian hastened to say. “She said there was guy playing open mic night that was good. I had no idea it was you.”  
  
Blaine nodded, toying with the label on his water bottle. “ _I_  had no idea you were in New York.”  
  
“I’m going to Columbia,” Sebastian offered, fingers tightening around the cup momentarily. “Pre-law.”  
  
Blaine looked up in surprise. “Really?”  
  
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or offended, Anderson.”  
  
A blush spread across Blaine’s cheeks and Sebastian’s chest tightened. He was still unfairly pretty.  
  
“I  _mean_ , I didn’t know you wanted to come to New York,” Blaine clarified, ducking his head.  
  
Sebastian shrugged. “It’s my dad’s alma mater, and he’s given some very generous donations over the years. I was practically accepted the day I was born.”  
  
There had never been a question about Sebastian’s plans after high school, though the effect of the Warblers’ disqualification on his application had been a cause for concern for a while. But his father had made some calls and that had been that (“It’s taken care of, Sebastian”).  
  
“Smart  _and_  modest,” Blaine commented, lifting his gaze with a playful look in his eye. “Can he sing, too?”  
  
Sebastian pretended to contemplate this for a moment. “Nah. I need to be auto-tuned at all times. Terribly off-key. Practically tone deaf.” Like the guy on stage currently butchering a Johnny Cash song.  
  
Blaine laughed quietly, and Sebastian found himself smiling in response before he could catch himself.  _Ah, fuck it._  
  
“What about you? Singing and dancing circles around the NYADA student body?”  
  
Blaine stopped laughing, a pained look crossing his face. “I—No. I’m going to Tisch, actually.”  
  
Sebastian blinked. “NYU? Really? I heard you got into NYADA?”  
  
Blaine looked back down at the table, his hands falling loosely into his lap. “I did. I just… decided my passion wasn’t for the stage after all.”  
  
“Huh.” Sebastian considered that, wondering how that piece fit into the puzzle that was the New York Blaine Anderson. “You must be the first person to actually turn NYADA down.”  
  
Blaine huffed a weak laugh. “Second, I think. Legend has it there was some guy back in the ‘60s.”  
  
“Hippie, no doubt.”  
  
Blaine nodded, finally looking up. “Terribly addicted to weed,” he agreed, his expression achingly grateful for the out. “Couldn’t afford the tuition on top of it.”  
  
Somehow, that exchange broke the ice between them and conversation flowed easily, though it remained on superficial topics like their schoolwork (Blaine was working on original songs at open mic nights as part of a project), favorite places in the city, how long they’d been visiting the coffee shop (“Of course  _you’d_  like a coffee shop with a Virginia Woolf-inspired name, Mr. Female Empowerment Songs,” Sebastian scoffed), and so on until Andrea cleared her throat. Sebastian and Blaine both started, not having heard her approach.  
  
She smiled apologetically. “I hate to interrupt, but we’re about to close, guys.”  
  
Sebastian frowned. “I thought you stayed open until—”  
  
“Midnight,” she supplied.  
  
Sebastian pulled out his phone as Blaine looked down at his watch. 11:55.  
  
Sebastian’s eyes widened. “Have we really been talking for—”  
  
“Three hours?” Blaine finished with a startled laugh.  
  
“You’ve kind of been in your own world over here. I really do hate to break it up.”  
  
“But you’re closing. Got it,” Blaine said, pushing himself to his feet. Andrea nodded and headed back to stacking chairs. Blaine glanced back at the makeshift stage and groaned. “I have to lug that keyboard back to the apartment. Sam usually helps, but—”  
  
“He’s long gone.”  
  
Blaine nodded before yawning. He scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I guess it  _is_  getting late.”  
  
“I can help,” Sebastian offered before realizing he’d spoken. At Blaine’s startled look, he wanted to kick himself for pushing too far, until…  
  
“Sebastian, I couldn’t—”  
  
“It’s fine.”  
  
“It’s late,” Blaine argued. “And it’s out of your way.”  
  
Sebastian shook his head, determined now. “I don’t have class until noon tomorrow. And I doubt the Halo tournament in my dorm is over yet anyway.”  
  
He’d been contemplating crashing on one of the tournament participant’s free bed since the things tended to go until dawn. He was able to ignore them when they took place in other people’s dorms since he was sleeping when his roommate stumbled in with the sunrise, but no such luck this time. The ridiculous marathon session was a test of endurance, his roommate claimed; Sebastian, for his part, thought it was a test of stupidity.  
  
“I don’t want to inconvenience you.”  
  
Still ever the gentleman, Sebastian noted, the thought warming him for some reason.  
  
“Blaine.” Sebastian waited until Blaine made eye contact with him and said firmly, “Let me help.”  
  
Blaine studied Sebastian for a long moment, and Sebastian did his best not to fidget as Blaine seemed to be looking for something in his face. Whatever it was, he must have found it because he finally nodded. “Okay.”  
  
Together they slipped the keyboard into its case, and Sebastian packed up the stand while Blaine gathered his sheet music and keyboard accessories and put them in his bag. Once they’d pulled their coats and scarves on, Blaine made to grab an end of the keyboard, but Sebastian pulled it back out of his reach. Blaine frowned, but Sebastian just smirked, hoisting the instrument under his arm for a better grip.  
  
“Lead the way, Mr. Anderson,” he said with a bow.  
  
With a sour look, Blaine grabbed his bag. Andrea locked the door behind them after making them promise to come to the shop at the same time once in a while. They both shivered in the cold night air and tucked their hands into their pockets as they walked toward the subway, falling back into the conversation from earlier, though there seemed to be some new kind of tension underscoring their words that Sebastian couldn’t name. Eventually they both fell silent. They boarded a half-full train and took seats opposite each other. Blaine seemed to be looking everywhere but Sebastian, so Sebastian took the opportunity to study the other boy.  
  
Outwardly, Blaine hadn’t changed much in the months since they’d seen each other. He still wore his hair gelled down and favored Brooks Brothers, though there was no bow tie tonight. No, the changes were more subtle—he held himself straighter despite seeming at times to  _want_  to curl in on himself; he was also quick to sarcasm and, though the dry wit wasn’t new, the underlying bitterness Sebastian had first noticed during the performance was. Blaine had been hurt, that much was obvious.  
  
Somehow, Sebastian thought he might be seeing the  _real_  Blaine Anderson for the first time tonight.  
  
Once they got off the train, Sebastian fell in step with Blaine, watching him out of the corner of his eye. Blaine had a set to his jaw that Sebastian recognized meant that he was working up to saying something.  
  
After a few silent blocks, Blaine halted in front of an apartment building. “This is me.”  
  
Sebastian nodded and followed Blaine up the steps to the front door. Blaine fished his keys out of his pocket, but instead of opening the door, he hesitated. Seconds passed and then he sighed, dropped his bag, and sat down on the top step. Sebastian frowned and leaned the keyboard against the wall while Blaine idly twirled his keys in his hands. Blaine remained silent, so Sebastian sat down next to him and waited. Patience, he could do that.  
  
Well. He could do that for Blaine, anyway.  
  
“The real reason I didn’t go to NYADA was that I couldn’t,” Blaine said finally, voice quiet.  
  
The words startled Sebastian. “Couldn’t?”  
  
“It turns out that Kurt and Rachel are pretty well known around the student body,” Blaine explained. “When I came up for my audition, I met some current students, and they were all too happy to share gossip, especially when they found out where I was from.”  
  
Sebastian remained silent, sensing that Blaine just needed to get his thoughts out. Despite appearances, Sebastian usually had a good idea of how other people were feeling—he mostly just didn’t care (or used it against them). But when it came to Blaine…  
  
“I realized then that I wouldn’t be able to get through a day at that school without Kurt haunting me,” Blaine went on, fist closing around his keys as his voice took on that bitter, hurt quality again. “I’d prepared myself for the idea of running into him or Rachel around campus, but it hadn’t hit me until then how he was going to be just around every corner anyway. So I  _couldn’t_.” He shook his head. “It was a good thing I applied to a few other schools. I got into Berklee and UCLA, but…”  
  
“It’s New York,” Sebastian supplied.  
  
Blaine nodded, lips twitching. “It’s New York,” he confirmed.  
  
“Are you and Kurt not…?” Sebastian trailed off, not sure how to phrase the question without sounding like an asshole, what with his history of pursuing Blaine.  
  
Blaine leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his knees, looking out over the neighborhood. “Friends? No, not really. We tried, for a while, in the spring. We were best friends before we started dating and we’d missed each other after we broke up, but…” Blaine sighed tiredly. “We eventually realized that we were never going to be able to do the ‘just friends’ thing. We were just hurting each other more like that.” His lips twisted. “I found out a few weeks ago that he’s seeing someone.”  
  
There was a lot more to the story, Sebastian could tell, about what had hurt Blaine so deeply. But Blaine didn’t seem inclined to share at the moment, so Sebastian let it drop.  
  
“His loss,” he said instead.  
  
Blaine clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything. As they fell back into silence, a light bulb went off in Sebastian’s mind about something Blaine had said earlier in the night.  
  
 _“Sorry about them. They’re kind of—”_  
  
 _“Psychotic?”_  
  
 _“Protective.”_  
  
If Blaine was struggling with his first love moving on, of course his friends would be protective—particularly around someone who had hurt him before. Sebastian looked at Blaine then, really looked, and thought that in the shadow of the street lights he seemed fragile somehow. They’d spent enough time together junior year for Sebastian to know that Blaine was the type to plaster on a smile and go on like nothing bothered him, all the while bottling up his emotions. But he was dropping his wall around Sebastian, as though he trusted him…  
  
Oh.  
  
Wow.  
  
It hit Sebastian then, really hit him, that he’d do just about anything to have the boy sitting next to him in his life again, even if all he could ever have was friendship. Blaine was simply exceptional; he wasn’t just a gorgeous voice and fantastic ass (though he had both). No, he made the people around him better, made them  _want_  to be better, just by being.  
  
Sebastian couldn’t remember ever  _wanting_  to take someone’s fragile heart and protect it the way he did with Blaine’s right now. Sebastian was usually the type to suss out fragility and shatter it, and laugh in the aftermath, but looking at Blaine now, who somehow seemed both older (wearier) and younger (more vulnerable) than he had in Ohio, Sebastian couldn’t imagine doing that to him.  
  
Not again.  
  
That probably should have scared the shit out of him—the way realizing he might be feeling something other than lust for Blaine in high school had, pushing him to set fire to certain bridges—but it felt natural.  
  
Blaine straightened his legs and ran a hand over his face. “God, I’m sorry, Sebastian,” he said with a strained chuckle. “It’s been how long since we’ve seen each other and I just unloaded my baggage on you.”  
  
“It’s fine, Blaine.” Because it really was. More than fine, actually.  
  
“I haven’t really been myself lately.” He laughed again without any humor as he pushed himself to his feet. “I think Sam and Tina are waiting for me to crack.” There was that bitterness again.  
  
“Have they considered that maybe you’re finally actually being yourself for once?” Sebastian countered.  
  
Clearly caught off-guard, Blaine looked down at Sebastian, mouth agape. “What?”  
  
Sebastian looked back up at Blaine impassively. “Remember what I said when you came back to Dalton for your trophy last year? ‘You’re a Dalton boy.’”  
  
“What about it?” Blaine asked, expression wary.  
  
“Dalton boys aren’t just ambitious and driven,” Sebastian replied, recalling that conversation in the library. “They’re also buttoned up and keep their emotions in check. Dalton boys are groomed to become diplomats and politicians; they can’t afford to let those pesky emotions out to play.” Blaine remained silent so Sebastian continued. “But I think that maybe you finally reached your breaking point with that bullshit and are actually letting your emotions out for once. Most people would call that healthy.”  
  
Blaine was silent for a long moment and Sebastian briefly wondered if he’d overstepped, but then Blaine’s lips twitched into a wan smile.  
  
“Pre-law, huh? Are you sure you’re not studying to be a therapist?”  
  
“FBI profiler,” Sebastian corrected with a smile of his own.  
  
“Someone’s been watching too much  _Criminal Minds_.”  
  
“It’s always on somewhere.”  
  
Blaine let out a breathy laugh and the moment was over. “I should get inside.”  
  
Sebastian nodded and got to his feet. Blaine unlocked the front door and grabbed his bag and the keyboard before Sebastian could make a move, smirking in victory. Sebastian rolled his eyes, but he was fighting back a smile.  
  
“I’m glad I ran into you tonight,” Blaine said, turning back to Sebastian once he’d settled the instrument and bag inside the front door.  
  
“Me too.”  
  
Blaine nodded. They looked at each other for moment, Sebastian feeling rooted to the spot, but Blaine finally shook his head as though he was clearing his thoughts. “I should…”  
  
“Right, of course,” Sebastian agreed, his feet unsticking from the ground. He felt his insides twisting. “I should get back to campus anyway. Goodnight, Killer.”  
  
“Goodnight.”  
  
Sebastian reluctantly descended the steps, but paused on the sidewalk when Blaine called his name. He turned to see the other boy standing in the doorway, biting his lip.  
  
“I’ll call you tomorrow?”  
  
“I’d like that,” Sebastian replied, letting out a relieved breath. He might have set fire to that bridge, but it seemed it hadn’t burned completely after all.  
  
Blaine’s face broke out into the biggest grin he’d seen all night and Sebastian tried to ignore the way his stomach swooped.  
  
“I’ll text you my number,” Sebastian said. He still had Blaine’s number, but had he been Blaine, he would’ve deleted his number from his phone months ago.  
  
But Blaine shook his head with a smile.  
  
“I never lost it.”


End file.
